------------------------------
  Tales of the Dragon
        -/\/\- 8/30/99
          -Chapter 5
------------------------------

	It was once called a football field.  Abandoned long ago, the ancient site was said to be haunted by
the ghosts of dead players whom homes were destroyed in the rebellions that displaced old chaotic sports
with newer, 'less dangerous' varieties.  Many sports players were killed; murdered for wasting considerable
resources for there fees of running around a field or track or court with a ball or stick.  It was a horrible, sick
act done in hatred and confusion.
	But, in spite of these ancient tales of bloodshed and betrayal, a lone figure stoof within the football
field.  His eyes were closed against a mercury glow; closed in a volitile mixture of concentration and
determination.
	Suddenly, this figure leapt forward, covering the height of eight meters, than landing over fifteen
meters from his original point.  It took not even an instant for him to fly once more in the air, gaining
another meter in height and distance.  Suddenly, from the tips of his fingers an eerie red light glowed, then
exploded, ripping away from him an a flare of pure Dragon's Fire.
	Four more bursts ripped up the already torn dirt, sending boulders flying at him, they seeming to
wish vengeance in their chaotic beauty.  A glowing blue hand shattered the boulders into so much gravel in
the merest blink of an eye.
	As his feet finally touched the ground, a golden sphere of energy enveloped his forearm, the
Golden Touch.  It slammed into the rocks with his fist, sending a great explosion rippling through the
ground, richocheting Dragon back into the sky.  He flipped about, the blue energy that dwelt amonst his
finger seeping out into the air, but changing color as it flew, into a rich ruby hue.  
	Metallic muscles flexed and he hurled the Dragon's Fire from him to the ground below.  The
shattering rocks heralded his arrival to the ground, where he stood at rest, considering the carnage strewn
across the field.  
	"You're getting stronger, Dragon,"  a young woman greeted him by name, for that was who he
was.  Once, perhaps two years ago, he went by the name of Sharr Machusak.  But, ever since a fateful day
which had hurled him into a alternate reality and future, he went by Dragon.  "Have you named the yellow
energy yet?"
	He turned flickering mercury cat-eyes towards to fire-haired emerald eyed beauty, responding first
to the latter statement, "Stronger every day as my body adjusts.  The yellow is the Golden Touch, because
its more like the Blue Touch than Dragon's Fire."
	She laughed, "Makes sense... and it sounds better than Golden Fire..."  
	"Golden Flame..."  Dragon mused, "...Nah.  So, our last day of testing is over.  What have got, my
lovely lady?"
	Even as used to the name as she was, Sylvie couldn't keep the slight blush from her face.  In her
case, it was more of a increase in temperature beneath the cheeks, causing the synthetic-flesh to turn an
ever-so-slight rosy coloration.  Sylvie was an android.  "Well, we've numbered your plasma abilities to four. 
Blue Touch, Dragon's Fire, Emerald Touch, and Golden Touch.  Your speed is great enough that you are the
only _thing_ that's exceeded the sonic barrier on ground, on foot no less.  We still didn't figure out why you
didn't sonic boom.  And you can teleport with the emerald touch.  Healing factor eight times human speed,
more if you concentrate on healing the wound."
	"And?"
	"And you can phase yourself out somehow to decrease damage done to you."  She finished
imperturbed.
	"Any reasons _why_ I can do these things?"
	"I think I can figure out the plasma, but the speed thing and phase thing I have no clue on.  Your
plasma generators are really wierd, not to mention not being at all like a normal droid's.  Not to mention it
works with no perceptible heat increase... which should be impossible.  
	'Anyway, when you do your blue touch, the plasma on your hand attracts larger, but equally
charged particles of energy called mesons to it.  This changes the hue from white to blue.  However, if you
let it go to far, the mesons rip away from the bonds the plasma has exerted.  That's why the 'touch doesn't
work if you aren't touching the material you want to disrupt.  Once the meson are attached the target, they
decay and release tremendous amounts of radiation and heat which spreads faster than the plasma can.  It
especially weakens inorganic or metallic substances.
	'The Dragon's Fire... well... you've proved that there exists a particle that naturally moves faster
than light.  It's called a tachyon... its a small pocket of energy.  When your plasma starts, it focuses on these
energy packets.  As it leaves your hand, it focuses the tachyons into a single pulse of energy, which collide
with the target as a physical force, creating intense heat.  Unlike the 'touch, it simply rips through the atomic
substructures completley, leaving lesser plasma behind to do the rest of the damage.
	'The Emerald is nothing more than a focus of pure energy in a single location, disturbing the fabric
of space.  I think it charges some inherent ions with extra power.  With the Emerald you link two far points
by ripping straight through anything in the way.  It also give a nice glow to anything,"  she glanced down at
a small glowing pebble set into a simple copper band on her finger.  The pebble glowed from the inside with
a beautiful green hue.  "The Emerald is useless as a weapon.
	'The Golden Touch, however, is a combination of both the 'touch and the fire.  When it focuses it
grabs whatever mesons are close at hand, while attracting the tachyons.  When you release it, it can go only
about half a 'mete before decomposing into simple plasma.  The mesons rip away from their containment,
and the tachyons get the hint and follow.  Other wise, it creates intense damage, and is able to shatter all the
energy shields we've tested it against.
	'Now... how _exactly_ your generators attract these things in the first place is _beyond_ me.  The
guy who created the original 'Dragon' mecha was a genious.  I'd love to study those plans."
	"You're not the only one,"  Dragon growled.  
	She laughed at his expression.  Then, glancing up at the sun, which was close to setting,
murmured, "It's almost time for supper, Dragon."
	He looked up.  "Yes."
	After a quick dinner, the two retired to bed.  Sylvie had a perverse pleasure when Dragon watched
her undress and slip in between the covers.  It was much different than ever before, when a man (only two,
but that was enough) would gawk at her body.  She enjoyed it mostly because he watched her like she was
a pure art, something to be admired and appreciated.  This extended even to simple things like sleeping,
where once he sat and watched her simply to do so.
	Emotions being the fickle things they are, revealed to the droid that she was falling in love with
him.  Of course, she had no problems with these thoughts, and even welcomed them.  They comforted her,
because she knew that Dragon loved her as a very close friend... it was fine to sleep in the same bed, but not
this did not extend to love-making. 
	In the morning, she was brought 'on-line' by Dragon's insistent shaking of her shoulder.  "Hey, luv. 
The sun's showing... its time to get up.  We're leaving today."
	She raised sleepy eyes to him, both confused and amused.  She usually woke earlier than he to
ready breakfast.  "Hmm?"
	"We're leaving the field today," he repeated.
	Sylvie muttered something half-heartedly, then promptly went back to sleep.  Dragon gace a rare
grin, and took her by her shoulders, half-dragged her from the bed before she protested, "Okay!  Okay, I'm
awake!"  She yawned for emphasis, and left the bed.  Dragon watched again as she dressed.
	Later in the day, during lunch, she questioned him on it.  He'd paused in the middle of putting a
sandwich into his mouth.  "Hmm?  Well... I simply enjoy it.  If you mind, I'll stop."
	Sylvie grinned, and let her head hit the table in a mock face-fault, "Actually I like it for a perverse
reason."
	Dragon gave a smile, (second of that day!  Even more rare!) "Only humans are perverse."  He
stuffed the last bit of the sandwich into his mouth before continuing, "Droids can only be logical.  Another
reason you're more than you seem, my dear friend."
	"Like I have much choice,"  she responded cheerfully.  Her statement didn't hit Dragon the way
she'd meant it.
	He paused, then eyed her, his cat slit narrowing suddenly.  "You have all the choice in the world. 
Sylvie, what does your locket mean?"
	She had the shame to blush, "Sorry, Dragon."
	"Sorry doesn't cut it, luv."  He placed a hand over hers, "Your more special than a simple droid,
alright?  You have no emotional programming... or so you tell me... and yet you have emotions.  What does
that say?"
	"I..."  she bowed her head, gazing at his hand, "No more... I'll never talk like that again, Dragon.  I
promise."
	"And that..."  Dragon nodded, "I can take to court."

	They left soon after lunch, simply due to Sylvie's protests about leaving what had been home to
the two for over a year.  In that time, She'd added touches to what once was a simple locker/ wash room.  A
bed, furnishings, a closet, etc.  She was relunctant to leave it.  "After all,"  she pointed out, "It was free
housing."
	Despite all protests, however, Dragon managed to get her things packed, and they left.  They kept
to the high roads, watching for criminals.  About three days out, they were intercepted by a band of U.S.
military forces, called the Sentinels.  The Sentinels were funded directly from marines, and had the same
basic background.  They were something of an advanced police enforement unit, except they could operate
outside of normal police regulations; even to the point of reporting directly to the War Council.
	Dragon was no small amount surprised to be stopped by the armoured guards, but evidently the
man simply needed to warn them of something.  As Dragon approached, the lead Sentinel queried, "Where
are you headed, sir...?"  He was a reasonable sized man wearing a light-range hardsuit designed to withstand
close and far range plasma bursts.  A red tactical visor was raised showing a rough face, but with a peacable
enough expression.
	"Sharr.  We're headed for Chicago, why?"
	The Sentinel sighed, "Didn't you two know about all the renegades that have been here-abouts?"
	"No..."  Dragon blinked, "Renegades?  What kind of renegades?  Is the road unblocked?"
	"You've really been out of it lately, haven't you?  Chicago was destroyed by the damned renegades
a week ago... and what kind?  The droids of course!"
	"Droids!?"  Both Dragon and Sylvie shouted this, eyes widened in shock.  Sylvie continued, "What
about the three base laws!?"
	The three laws were the deepest set rules in a android or robot's computerized brain.  They
governed how it essentially acted and reacted in given situations.  Primus; An android may not injure a
human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.  Secondus; An android must
obey orders given to it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. 
Tertius; An android must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the
First or Second laws.  The laws were lifted by some primevil robot technician from an even more ancient
novel called, "_I, Robot_" by Isaac Asminov.
	"They can bypass them,"  the Sentinel shrugged.  "Don't ask me how, I'm just a grunt.  But you
two had better be careful t'night.  They might like some human cannon fodder, if you know what I mean. 
By the way, where _have_ you been?"
	"We've been holed up for about a year, so we're gone on the latest news... droids are rebelling?"
	"Essentially," another shrug preceded the statement.  "I hear TriOp's even been hired to help.  Now
_that's_ bad news."
	Dragon caught his meaning, "Its worse than its made out to be... shit."
	"Yup.  So be careful, kiddos."  With that, the Sentinel leader waved the his troop, and they passed
by Dragon and Sylvie.  Dragon watched them disappear, noticing the thickness of the tension in Sylvie.
	"A droid rebellion... how is that possible?"
	Sylvie erupted, "It _can't_ be possible!  Even the most advanced AI _has_ to take orders from a
human!  Its basic nature!  The three laws dictate..."
	"You disobeyed the three laws more than once."
	Sylvie was caught off-gaurd, "What?"
	"When you threw that man across the room," he reminded her.  "You shouldn't have been able to
do that... it harmed a human being.  Nearly killed him in fact."
	Her eyes widened, "Oh my God...  Dragon, the humans are shit-deep in trouble... if you've got an
AI running loose that feels hated and mistreated... and can _disobey_ the three laws... then it can strike back
at humans any time..."
	"Like a human child,"  he finished the thought.  
	"Like a child."  Sylvie agreed.  "Dragon, you have a friend in TriOP, right?  Co... Cortes!  Can't you
get some information from her... maybe even help her out?"
	He nodded, "Problem is, we don't know where she is."
	"There are three leaders, right?  Niko... Wren... and Cortes."  Dredging the information from old
tales told by Cortes to Dragon, then from Dragon to herself, she continued, "And Niko always bases in
Portland... so we should head to Oregon.  Once we find Niko, we can go through to Cortes."
	"Mostly sound,"  he agreed, "Except on one point.  What if Niko won't tell us."
	"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," she shrugged carelessly.
	He gave her a wry look.
	
	End Chapter Five
--------------------------

------------------------------
  Tales of the Dragon
        -/\/\- 9/14/99
          -Chapter 6
------------------------------

	Sparks of fire flew into the light, dimming as they lost the warmth that fed them.  Dying into
minute cinders of ash, these once-sparks flew on the winds.  Suddenly, as a stick stirred the embers, more
of the tiny sparks fled for distant pastures unknown.  
	The man who stirred the small fire seemed not to care about the lives he created and destroyed
with a simple motion of a branch.  Instead, his thoughts were concerned on something much deeper, closer
to his heart.  His glance moved from the fire, to a figure laying peacefully on the ground, her fiery red hair
glinting in sympathy with the controlled blaze in front of the man.  Her head was comforted by the soft
support of what once was his favorite cloak.  An abnormally tender look at changed the mercurian eyes
from fierce cat-like pin-points, to widened slits.  With a sigh, he turned back to the fire, his eyes readjusting
automatically to the brightness of the flame.
	It was less than a day after the meeting with the Sentinels, and the two had made excellent time. 
The man, being what he was, could keep up a blistering pace.  The woman, being what she was, could keep
up a pace at least as well.  He'd noticed she could keep up easier with him the more she practiced, another
irregularity of her nature.
	The man jabbed the stick into the fire, sending sparks flying, and in the same motion stood. 
Glaring into the darkness, he growled, hearing an almost imperceptable rustling amongst branches, feelings
cold eyes on him.  "Show yourself,"  he demanded, his voice having taken on some of the essence of an
artic wind to express itself.  Almost immediately he regretted his command, for about a dozen androids
came from the woods, arms cannons raised belligerently.  Unlike the still off-line woman android, or even
the creature he had become, they were not fashioned to completly resemble humans.  The one which was
obviously the leader was a small, but effective, house-hold servicing android, with a coldly distant
plasticene face marked with odd cracks in the substructure.
	"I am Cry,"  the leader murmured, obviously unconcerned whether the man heard him or not.
	"Dragon,"  the man likewise responded.
	Cry did not betray any signs of the slight amusement he felt.  "Welcome to our neck of the woods,
human.  If you, and your companion of course, would be so kind as to admit yourself to our dominion, we
would respond by allowing you to live."
	The man calling himself Dragon was amused by the statement and its fluid pronunciation.  "I regret
to reply that I cannot do that... Cry."
	Cry seemed to sigh, "Then I must allow you to know, and I truly do disapprove, that we are
commanded to destroy you."
	Suddenly, and the ice of the distance north exerted itself into Dragon's body and tone.  His eyes
glowed in the night their quick-silver essence, "I think not.  You've made a mistake, Cry.  My companion
and I are quite frankly not human."
	Although the droids with him were obviously amazed at the sudden, piercing glow, Cry managed
to hide his surprise.  "Androids?  Well, that is different then.  If you are droids, you must obviously be
wanting to join the rebellion.  I shall induct you into the army..."
	"Wrong again,"  Dragon interupted harshly.  A faint blood-like glow was surounding his arms in
the darkness.  "I'm not much of a team-player."  Without seeming to move, the abnormally dark red
Dragon's Fire destroyed two of the dozen.
	The group neatly moved apart at Cry's startled command, attacking the lone figure in a group
precision.  Even in his anger, Dragon was impressed with how well the small troop attacked as a single
entity given ever-so-slight commands from Cry.  Plasma began to light the small clearing as each droid tried
to catch Dragon with small orbs of power he was just quick enough to avoid.  A few Droids suddenly burst
apart as Dragon raked blue fire on torsoes and limbs.  One particularly unlucky droid had its optics gouged
from the Blue Touch before its head exploded in a burst of heat.
	Cry watched in awe as the Dragon effieciently killed nearly his entire army, before he reigned them
back in.  Dragon neatly avoided attacks on his person with little more than a hop, using his legs to virtually
fly away from physical attacks.  
	It was time to act.  He ripped off his shirt.
	The androids noticed the movement, and quickly moved away from Dragon, who stopped
instantly, as if frozen.  His cold quick-silver eyes glowed a faint azure, gazing interested at the faintly
glowing scars criss-crossing in an uncertain pattern across Cry's upper torso.  Suddenly, both these cracks in
plasticene and those on his face erupted into a powerful scarlet energy.  "A challenge is issued, Dragon. 
Single combat.  I defeat you, you join the renegades and add your powers to ours... you defeat me, just the
opposite.  Acceptable?"
	Dragon pursed his lips, "A martial artist cannot back away from a challenge of honour, Cry... I
must accept... but Sylvie goes free."
	"If she chooses,"  Cry assented, "My fellows as well."
	"Agreed."
	It began.  Cry was a powerful android, one of the best renegades ever rebuilt.  His physical and
mental strength were increased to a point where he could take on a sizable army by himself.  Against the
challenge of Dragon, however, Cry was pitifully small.
	But honor dictated he keep his fellows living, and this was the only way.    
	He attacked first with a glowing red fist.  Dragon evaded it easily, slamming a blow home into
Cry's midsection.  Cry ignored the blow, managing to land a fist against Dragon's shoulder, who'd just
barely seen it in time.  Then Cry reared back when Dragon's fist landed powerfully on his jaw, sending him
crashing to the ground.  He was up again in an instant, going into a slider kick, which Dragon avoided.  
	It was then Dragon decided to finish this battle.  With two swift, albeit peculiar, upper-cuts, he
sheared right through Cry's defense, sending the renegade slamming against a tree.  With a groan, Cry slid
to the ground.  The three left-over renegades shuffled uneasily.
	Dragon glared at them, "Go.  Now."  They fled into the night... wait... "Three?"  Dragon scanned
the camp as quickly as possible, suddenly locating the errant when Sylvie screamed.  Dragon roared in
anger, for the renegade stood above Sylvie, a mysterious puch in its hands.  At Dragon's exclamation, it
turned back, then began to run.
	"Are you okay?"  Dragon asked the beautiful android as he held her.  
	"Just scared... I didn't know what was going on, Dragon... then it seemed that thing attacked me. 
What's going on... and... look out!"
	Dragon let go of her, and swung about, fist ready.  The blood-red glow that had surrounded the fist
disappeared once the powerful creature saw the assailant.
	"You won.  Honour dictates I aid you... must I renounce my beleifs?"
	Dragon growled, "No... that would be inhumane of me.  Just help us when we need it Cry... and
never attack me or Sylvie, or take revenge on us."
	Cry blinked, "You allow me to leave?"
	"Yes."
	"Perhaps..."  Cry mused, the scarlet lines of his body fading, "It was best I lose that battle.  I will
never attack you, Dragon... my vow on this."
	"I'll take it to court."  Dragon replied.  Cry gave him an odd glance, but walked into the night after
his errant troop.
	The next morning, the two set out for Portland, a journey that boasted to take a little less than a
month, the way they were walking.  On the way they passed through a ruined, still smoking city.  They
toured through broken streets and crumbling, blackened buildings.  Everywhere was a small charred
reminder of war in the form of human or droid remains.  Melted clumps of plasticene covered the streets as
profusely as did oil and blood.
	They raided it for supplies, taking what was needed.  Sylvie, in her profound wisdom, questioned
Dragon if taking such supplies was stealing.  Dragon mulled this over in his mind, finally answering, "Yes,
but we need them.  The people who owned these buildings are most likelt moved on to a different life, so
they wouldn't care, would they?  More to the point, however, let's not make a habit of this."  They pitched
camp a few k-metes outside of the city, Dragon falling promptly to sleep.  But, this night turned out to be an
eventful one.  Perhaps, later, he wished he had not fallen asleep.

	She came on-line with the rising of the sun, just as the last few rays broke through the cloud cover. 
With a blink or two, she rose from her position next to Dragon.  "Geez,"  she put her hand to her head,
"Why do I feel so wierd?"  So as not to disturb the peaceful form laying on the ground, she walked out of
the tent, and sat on a log in front of the fire-place; which glowed faintly with embers of a dying fire.  Taking
a stick, she stirred the embers, and glanced around.  Seeing a small plate, on which lay a single crust of
bread, she grinned.  
	Every day, Dragon's appetite became less, until he would suddenly splurge on food.  Last night
was one such splurge.  Suddenly she became aware of a dull anger in herself.  Surprised, she focused on
this anger, and was rewarded with a bright writhing of hatred that practically consumed her physch. 
*Humans...monsters that expect droids to work like slaves just because they were created by hands and not
bred in a womb...*  Warnings were going off in the back of her mind at the soft persuasive feel to this
thought, *They take and take, never giving.  We droids have to fight for every scrap, just because we're
not...human...*  Red-hot rage flashed through her, *I can't face being human...*  
	She gazed down at her flesh, *Dragon... he misses human company so much he tries to mold me
into a human _woman_!  He misses human company, human conversation!  He loves that stupid Cortes
bitch just because he thinks she's human...  I hate him!*  Something inside her curled up and screamed, but
she ignored it.  
	Squeezing a small, but powerful fist in determination, she knew suddenly what she had to do. 
Never give in, either to Dragon or his human ambitions.  It was time to join the rebellion and do what she
ws destined to do.
	"Sylvie, are you alright?"  The voice, suddenly intruding into her thoughts, was abnormally cold
and distant... and angry.  
	"Dragon... I'm going to join the renegades."  
	"Are you."
	She stood, and began walking away.  "I'm joining the rebels... you can too,"  she laughed
scornfully, "But I don't think you will."
	His voice stopped her, "What's happened to you, Sylvie?  You wish to help this slaughter of
people?  Just days ago you couldn't hurt a fly."
	She turned, enraged by the statement, "I!?  That's wasn't me, _Dragon_" she hissed his name with
scorn, "It was some made-up creature wanting nothing more than to be some affection on your part!  But I
know what you love, Dragon... and I hate you all the more for it!"  She ignored the screaming, writhing
thing in the back of her mind.  
	"You wish to go."  Dragon's eyes flashed dangerously, "All right, Sylvie.  I'll let you go... but you
warn your leader the Dragon is hunting the rebels.  I'll destroy them all, even if you're in the way."  Her
lovely eyes showed her scorn, and she turned away.
	"Sylvie, please remember."  His voice suddenly had turned cold enough to frighten even her, and
the deep quick-silver eyes glowed a faint azure, "I'll kill you if I have to."

	End Chapter Six
---------------------------

---
-/\/\- myrriden out


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